//------------------------------// // Side Story: Mission (Out of) Control // Story: Equal and Opposite // by Quillamore //------------------------------// Ah, I sigh to myself as I wake up yet again in the cocoon I’ve inhabited for Celestia knows how long, another day in paradise. For those not able to tell immediately, that was thinly veiled sarcasm. Verythinly veiled sarcasm. If you really want me to tell you this story, you’re going to have to put up with it. While I might seem like an innocent, cutesy filly at first glance, I actually have a rather sharp wit, if I say so myself, so don’t underestimate me. After all, I have been living on my own without adult supervision for quite a while, unless you count Chrysalis’s occasional coming and going as that. I personally don’t, so I prefer not to call it that. She’s more like a guard than anything. Come to think of it, now that I’m remembering a lot more from before Skyla came here, I recall Chrysalis actually asking me to do the same for the princess, to try to keep her in line. Why she’d trust me to do that, I have no idea. I’ve never liked nor trusted changelings, but they’re the only things I know really. I can put up a tough front when they’re not around, but I think I might actually be scared to death of them. At least, that’s what Skyla says. I try not to disagree with her too much, and not just because it’s a pain sharing a small space with somepony who isn’t fond of you. Believe it or not, I actually don’t mind Skyla as a person—no, pony—no, character—or whatever, despite me being used by the changelings at the moment. Point is, I’m fond of her, so don’t question it. "Hya?" Skyla moans (using that telepathic voice of hers) as she gets up from her slumber slightly after me. I’ve never been used to being called by a nickname, but somehow I don’t mind it when she does it. ‘Hyacinth Harmony,’ after all, can be quite a mouthful. Lucky princess for actually getting a relatively simple name. Being somepony who’s never escaped the hive, I don’t actually know what a hyacinth is even supposed to be, anyway. I don’t remember much before Skyla came, but I’m fine with that. Right now, she’s all that matters. She’s basically what keeps me sane right now. The two of us huddle together in the middle of the cocoon because we both like the feeling of having somepony else’s fur touching yours. It actually makes you feel like you’re not alone in this desolate place where everypony (or everychangeling?) seems to be an enemy. Skyla doesn’t look particularly well right now; for one thing, her fur is in complete disarray and I swear she’s coming down with something. Just a month ago, we stopped being able to talk through normal means, she’s been getting so weak. Every once in a while, Skyla goes away while I’m asleep and comes back with Chrysalis carrying her, and somehow, I’m beginning to suspect that the changelings are fiddling with her. Trying to turn her into a Duchesse, I mean. She keeps insisting on protecting me, but I swear, she’s the one that needs protecting. The fact that an alicorn like her is weakening so quickly only furthers my suspicions. I don’t seem like so much of a filly now, do I? That’s what being here does to you, I guess. There’s no time for galloping around when your friendly changeling overlords are snooping about. I keep on thinking about how much I hate this place, how much I wish I could escape with Skyla and find a new life, but wishes can be interpreted in strange ways. If only I’d known that a few days later, I would transcend this existence. Except not with Skyla by my side. I try and try, but she can’t even see me anymore. Maybe if I try to reach out to her in a different way, she’d notice. But for now, I remember this moment fondly, because, as I soon realized, it would be the last time I’d feel my fur against her own. **** I watch several days after the aforementioned event as Skyla sleeps within her cocoon, completely alone for once, and try once again to reach out to her, even though I know it’s useless now. While Skyla can, in fact, see spirits, I get the feeling that her fading power no longer allows her to do that, as she doesn’t even talk with her glimmers anymore. On the other hand, I can see that she’s also been blinded by grief, rarely staying awake and only being able to cry and convulse when she is. If the reasoning behind the atrocity that’s recently unfolded is to get her to further lose hope, it’s working. Our cozy morning together, the one that seemed like it occurred centuries ago, didn’t last long, as changelings came within an hour for their usual checkup. They’d tried to take Skyla away from me in order to mess around with her again, but for the first time in my life, I decided to stand up against my captors, attacking with all my might if it meant fighting for her honor. As you can probably predict, they didn’t take well to it, and looking back on it, I should’ve seen that the odds were against me for one simple reason: they had magic and I didn’t. The scuffle that was supposed to allow us to escape lasted less than five minutes. By then, about half of them had pinned me down, while the other half had presumably left to notify the queen. However, I had basically ignored that fact until I heard a single voice of protest. “Hya, no!” Skyla’s voice invaded my brain with an intensity that I hadn’t seen before with her telepathy. Even though the changelings had basically left her mute, I could still feel how much agony she was facing right now. The normally clear intonation of the voice she chose to use for this means of communication had become desperate and possibly even a little crazed. “If you give into them and stop fighting, maybe they’ll reduce your inevitable punishment!” “I can’t,” I replied, making sure my attackers weren’t aware of what I was doing. “You know I can’t. How could you let them continue to do this to you?! You’re dying, Skyla, and you’re letting them do those terrible things to somepony who’s supposed to be immortal in the first place! A true and proud princess would never let spawn so low as these to control her, to infest her in any way possible! I’m not always going to be around to keep you out of trouble, you know?!” “You don’t have to put your life on the line like you’re some sort of royal guard or something! Don’t just throw yourself away for me! I want to be your equal. Even if I die, you can still live your own life, and even if I die, Equestria will still have enough princesses to rule itself for another thousand years. Besides, should my death become dangerously possible…I’ll still have my opposite. Asher can take my place, and Equestria will never have to know!” “You tell me to live my own life, but you’d be perfectly willing to force another to replace you and life a lie?” Without realizing that I wasn’t supposed to be speaking on the same concrete plane that the changelings holding me down were on, I scoffed. “That’s not the Skyla I came to know. You never struck me for a hypocrite. You never struck me for the sort of idiot who’d trust a changeling to join Celestia’s court. You know, just like the ones who’re killing you from the inside?” “I don’t want to argue,” she sobbed, “but in any case, please don’t bring Asher into this. She…she’s different. She wants to help.” “If she wants to help so badly, then why hasn’t she gone against her own kind and rescued us?! Changelings are changelings, and I’m tired of running away from them in fear. They can change their outward appearances, but they can’t change their characters. They’ll always be out to create havoc. I’m tired of you treating one of our torturers like she’s some sort of family to you, because I could care less. If it turns out that my parents were changelings all along, I’d still go against them because I want to be your guard. A princess needs one to survive, so if I have to play that role, then so be it. “Just…quit protecting me for once. I’ll never remember anything outside the hive, probably never get to see the world outside, and nopony even really cares if I exist or not, for all I know. But you…you’re different. You haven’t been molded into their pawn yet. You can escape. It’d be a shame if a rare princess managed to die within her first years of life. No stupid changeling could replace you, because I believe that you deserve to live more than anypony else…” Before Skyla could protest, Chrysalis quickly barged into the area, firing her horn to the greatest intensity that I had ever seen from her. An almost blinding light emanated from it and, without a single word, without a single reason given, staggering amounts of electricity shocked my body. The cave was illuminated for several minutes, and when the light finally cleared, any trace of me was nothing more than shreds. The worst part about this entire experience is that I’m far from dead. I don’t know the full explanation yet, but somehow, I can remember that that ravaged filly form hadn’t been my first. I’m not a pony, or a changeling, or even a glimmer, but rather some sort of odd creature that can only exist by animating a dead body. Take the body away and any contact I might’ve had with the regular world is immediately cut. But Skyla never knew that. She spends every waking moment now, mourning what she perceives to be my eternal death. To her, this is the first rude awakening she’ll receive that not everypony was designed to live as long as her. She’s become desperate, senseless, trying to escape at any chance she’ll get and even mouthing off to her captors. If the situation wasn’t so grave, I’d be proud. But I can’t avoid the fact that the impetus for her finally rebelling is something that I never could have accomplished while living in her world. I still entertain the notion that someday, maybe by some odd stroke of fate, I’ll be able to find another empty body within the hive to occupy, to assure Skyla that I’ve never really left her side. Sure, she probably won’t believe me, but for all I know, the emotions she feels for me might be deeper than that initial skepticism. She might be at such a state to believe it with open arms, even with the possibility that she might be deluding herself by doing such. Most of all, however, I consider the possibility that maybe Skyla was right about Asher all along, that maybe she will end up fulfilling her side of the bargain. It’s not something I’m particularly excited or even convinced about, but I figure that there isn’t much point in continuing to bicker with somepony who doesn’t even think you’re still alive. If—no, when—I end up returning to the world of existence, I want to abandon all the grudges I might’ve once had within that old, small body of mine. There’s one thing, however, I do want to keep: I will never let Skyla go. This time, I’m going to stay by her side for eternity, even if it means going to extremes to ensure I won’t have to leave her again. And, most of all, I’m not about to let anypony tear her apart from me anymore, even if it means fighting the one she relies upon most.